Another fine example of Clinton Foolishness

Tiki Party Tonight!

We're having a bitchin' tiki themed party this weekend at our pad. It's our 8 months belated house warming party. There's going to be food, music, food, and lots of tiki drinks. In preparation for this sware, I've been digging up some tuneage and have come upon some cool bands like...

The Mermen
The Neptunas
King of Hawaii
Israel Kamakawiwo'ole
The Ghastly Ones
Los Tiki Phantoms

So two things.

First I want to bring up Israel Kamakawiwo'ole. You may have heard his amazing rendition of "Somewhere Over The Rainbow". It's rad, right? Well he's DEAD. DEAD AS A DOORKNOB. After looking him up, I was shocked to see the guy was ginourmously obese.



He died in 1997. I seriously suggest you check his music out.

The other thing I want to mention are Los Tiki Phantoms out of Spain. I was looking on their page and saw this drawing:



I dug in some more and discovered the artist is Fermín Solís. His website is chocked full of cool caricature/cartoon based illustrations which I just eat up. Go check it out!

Awesome Old Fart

I seriously want to be just like this guy when I get old.

How to build Zort, the motorcycle

Old Cars

I took the family to San Mateo last night to check out the old car gathering they have at TGI Fridays every 3rd Wednesday of the month. Small showing but some cool cars. Lots of muscle cars (yawn).

Gallery

Dave Navarro's Goatee Fucking Sucks

Hey, The Bugs actually made a (shitty) video for it!

MASTER! MASTER! Master of his property...

Oh James Hetfield. You cut your hair. You became rockabilly. Your music sucks. And now even more people hate you, Mr. Hetfield.

GET OFF MY LAND BITCHES!

Sore Losers

After the primaries I thought we could just focus on the 2 main candidates. But I have read and watched and listened to the Hillary Clinton supporters become the biggest whiners and sore losers I have ever witnessed. This is 100 times more sour grapes than when Al Gore lost the election. If you supported Hillary Clinton and you can't get over it, you throw temper tantrums, you threaten to vote for McCain... go fuck yourself. Seriously. Get over it.

Need some examples? Read the comments here.

I have nothing interesting to say.



Here are some more dopes

This is America

And I could only dream it would be like this again some day.

Cobra Skulls rule you.

Flash Back

Here's my mom with her older brother's 1952(?) Olds.


And here's my lil family.

If you're an atheist or interested in atheist conversations, this is a great way to kill 2 hours. I advise listening while you're working.

The Four Horsemen

Ashtray, Black Fag, and Me First & The Gimme Gimmes

Ashtray
Dude, Chick, tag team punk rock. High energy. Great!

Black Fag
All gay Black Flag coverband. So funny my face wouldn't stop hurting. TMZ PARTY TONIGHT!


Me First & The Gimme Gimmes
Of course they were great and Fat Mike was a funny fucker. Not many pics as I was too busy marshing.


GALLERY

Luka is an Asshole

"Hi, I'm an asshole"


So I have never felt more Californian than today... Luka is now on Puppy Prozac. Well, not quite, but close. His separation anxiety has now become unmanageable. We've tried everything under the sun but it finally came to meds.

We came home after the Gimme Gimme show and found him waiting for us at the door. Which is odd since we put him in his crate. His face was covered in blood and lacerations. He had managed to dig through the plastic crate liner, through the metal bars of the crate, INTO OUR CARPET, and crawled out.


The last straw.

We got him a sister just so he would have a buddy and not do this anymore. But the two of them together have become some tag team duo.


Hopefully the meds work for him and he finally calms down. He looks like a junk yard dog right now.

Good job Luka, you're new home is now so much more punk.


Shithead's Gallery

Lori's Big Two Five

888
08-08-08
August 8th, 2008
The number of the beast's pet Labradoodle.
The beginning of the Summer Olmpics in China.
And Lori turns 25 and gets a new do.

My own La Femme Nakita
Happy Birthday to ME!



Thanh Long


The Gallery

The Desoto A-Go-Gos

Old cars are money pits and need constant attention. I've known this since way back when helping my dad paint engines in the yard and pulling off transmissions in the winter in a gravel driveway. I fully understand what I'm getting into. And if you aren't rich and pulling out your credit card for everything, you need to do the work yourself. But doing that work brings on a warm fuzzy feeling of satisfaction when you are done.

When Lori and I moved to South City in January, I had my 53 Desoto Firedome and 63 Ford Galaxie. My buddy John drove the Desoto over from the East Bay while I drove the moving truck. He parked it in front of our house on the other side of the street. And there it stayed.

The mechanical fuel pump had long since konked out and it was running a 12 volt electric fuel pump on a 6 volt system. And I guess it had enough and died. So I ordered a rebuilt fuel pump and waited a month to put that on. As soon as I put that on the carburetor started spewing fuel and kept flooding. This was simply the motivation to to spend all summer working on my Desoto's engine.

Before


After


Total top end rebuild. New gaskets, hoses, belts, coil, points, plugs, plug wires, carburetor rebuild, generator rebuilt. In all it took me about 6 months to do. Clean up was the longest part of it. Paint is not original engine colors, but I like it. The engine is a 276 c.i. Hemi v8, affectionately known as a Baby Hemi. Transmission is a fluid drive, which is an early form of automatic.

She's running top notch. Next up is brakes and exhaust. And someday interior. It's one thing after the next with these cars. Trying to fix this, my 49 Ford F-1, and all my motorcycles is a drain on my sanity and pocket book, but in the end it's worth it.


1953 Desoto Firedome Gallery

Patton Oswalt

Patton Oswalt ruled last night. If I was funny, I think my humor would be pretty similar. Hell, he plays Dungeons and Dragons (he's a Paladin). But I didn't get a picture with him. So instead here's a pic with me and Doug Benson, Brian Posehn, Kristopher Tinkle, and my friends Julie and Jimmy from a couple months ago.

Needy

Our dogs are needy, very needy. They can only have fun when we are around. If we put them outside they just stare at the door, knocking it with their paws until we let them in. Then they come in with their tails of destruction, knocking everything over, whipping or legs, and jumping on the couch. It takes them 5 minutes to calm down. Like they've never seen us before.

Luka is the neediest of all. I think he has severe separation anxiety/abandonment issues. Yesterday I brought Sheena the punk rock dachshund in to work with me and left Luka alone all day. As soon as I pulled in at the end of the day I heard him whining and was greeted by him at the door. Which is funny because he has a crate.

I went to his crate and the door was still latched. He somehow managed to pry open the bottom of the crate and squeeze through. All the welds were broken. This was a very tight squeeze, how he did it I have no idea. Then when I looked at his face it was covered in scratches. I'm surprised he still has ears.

He's just such a big baby. Poor guy. We'll never leave him alone without his Sheena again.

Double Your Pleasure

This week marks the 2 year anniversary of me and Lori going out. And ALSO her 25th birthday. There's about a 6 1/2 year age difference there. Which means we should be approximately the same maturity level, according to scientists. But I, of course, am the mature one. We both know that.



But anyway, what are we doing to celebrate? A little dinner, some flowers. She's taking me to some suprise involving the ocean in September (hopefully not involving shark cages). I have a couple upcoming suprises. And tonight we're going to go see Patton Oswalt at Cobb's Comedy Club. We're cool like that.

Lori's cool. She's been working out and making me eat twigs and leaves so I can stop being a fat ass. She bought a treadmill I'm not allowed to touch. And she told me Taco Bell chicken quesidillas have 550 calories and 29 grams of fat. Great. What a buzz kill.

She's also learning to ride a motorcycle with me. I fixed her up a 1969 Honda CB450. I think she'd paint it pink if she had her way. Soon we will be cruising by the ocean together.


She's an awesome girl who has very cold hands. And I love her very much. Happy Anniversary and Birthday!

X-Men Origins - Wolverine

This looks pretty damn cool.

The Roar Of 50,000 Harleys

I remember liking McCain, what, 8 years ago? But I can't help feeling a bit naseous watching him pander to the redneck Sturgis crowd. I'm also quite amused about the whole tire gauge attack by the Republicans. How can 50% of this country be so... dumb? Go watch Idiocracy, because that's our future, no matter who wins the presidency.

Smoking Habit

It's the 2 year anniversary of this happening:

Geez, what a horrible conclusion to what I thought would be a wonderful day. I was looking forward to riding my motorcycle in town and Marin with a friend today. I was booking along on the Bay Bridge going 80mph in mad, angry traffic... and suddenly my bike made a funny noise, the engine died, and I started dropping speed like crazy. I signalled with my arm that was coming over, emergency style. Kind of like a karate chop type gesture. I was heading to the right side, but the bridge's huge flaw is there is no emergency lane! I had no where to go!

80-90mph traffic coming from all lanes, I was slowing down fast and was signalling to come over frantically. The caged machines just were not happy with me. I was getting swerved at, screamed at, honked at. Can these people not fathom a vehicle in distress? What has happened to humans to make us such evil people, especially when in a car? I was coming over whether they liked it or not.

I managed to get all the way to the right in direct path of traffic. I was completely resigned to the fact that this might be my last few seconds. A lone, small biker on an 8 mile bridge full over assholes in death machines blazing down the road. Yup, there was guaranteed to be one person not paying attention and I would be on page 10 of the newspaper tomorrow burried under a burrito ad. "Motorcyclist: Hit On Bridge." Tragic. Short. Nondescript. Gyped. That would be the end of me.

I got as far over as possible, and I just grabbed my bike and ran as fast as I could. Cars screaming by, no courtesy. Forget it! Run! Treasure Island was just a few hundred more yards and I got my last bout of energy. I sprinted the last hundred yards screaming "FUCK FUCK FUCK!" I got off the exit, pushed my bike to a shady spot, and sat down. Holy shit, I can't believe I almost became a pancake! I started cursing people loudly. The ringing sounds of cars flying by filled every bit of the world at that moment. Doppler effect times 1000. They couldn't hear my screams at them. I pulled the sweat drenched helmet off my head and sat down to try to think of what to do.

I called my friend to cancel. I called my roomate for a ride home, and then he reminded me that I have AAA. "Sweet Jesus, he's right!" I called AAA, and talked to some extremely friendly people wanting nothing more to help me. Triple A is the best investment I ever made. Hands down. Well, maybe my capo for my guitar is up there.

3 hours later of being stuck on a loud rock between the bay and San Francisco, Eddie the tow truck driver showed up in his yellow "Mickey's Towing" International flatbed. A scrawny asian man with mangled, gnarly teeth. But he was a nice dude. He managed to survive the hour of traffic it took to get to me.

We loaded up my bike, me telling him how to load it right. Apparently a lot of tow truck drivers don't like getting motorcycles, as they often get damaged. Owners complain about scratches. I told him I did not care about scratches and showed him the right way to tie it down.

The ride home was relatively calm. I took a few more glimpses of his gnarly teeth and noticed a stack of asian cds and a pack of Wrigley's Spearment gum on his dash. I concluded that his Billy Bob teeth probably put off quite a pungent smell, which he compensated by chewing the gum. Attack the symptom.

He dropped me off and I parked my bike. So what happened? I'm currently praying it's a fried spark plug. I really don't want to have to open the engine. I'll have to wait until later this week to look at it. Luckily I have the old standby XS650, which I have affectionately named "The Gaping Maw."

Capt. Danger signing out.

So I'm finally getting around to my RD350 again. I should be blowing blue smoke soon.
1974 Yamaha RD350 Gallery

POST # 1

I used to do this whole blogging thing for years, but stopped a couple years ago. Now everyone has a blog. In this day an age you are no one without a Myspace page, Youtube account, and a blog; so in order to be someone again, I'm starting another blog.

My old blog had it's heyday during my bmx peak while living in Austin from 2000 to 2003. Most of my entries were about the shennanigans I got into riding my bike with my buddies. Archive.org still has a good collection of some of the entries I had. Vorhese.com @ Archive.org

This blog will probably focus on my old motorcycles, old cars, my dogs acting like maniacs, some artwork here and there, and the various activities I do with my gal. Lots of pictures, hopefully some entertaining stories. Basically this blog will make me sound much more interesting than I really am.